


Sharing Space

by LapfulofMisha



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Flirting!Dean, M/M, Masturbation, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2013-03-28
Packaged: 2017-12-06 17:37:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/738319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LapfulofMisha/pseuds/LapfulofMisha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas can't smite the demons fast enough to keep them away from Dean, so he hides Dean.  In his own vessel. Once Dean recovers from the shock of sharing a body with Cas, the flirting (and fluff) begins . . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sharing Space

Dean became aware of searing white heat surrounding him.  He felt like he was swimming in gelatin, his limbs not entirely his own, not obeying his commands.  He struggled to pull himself awake, not realizing he was already fully conscious. 

He tried to remember where he was.  _He and Sam had been at Bobby’s.  Sam had lost the game of rock, paper, scissors, and had gone into town for supplies. Bobby had left to pick up medicine at the pharmacy and deliver it to a sick hunter friend, along with several cans of chicken soup and a bottle of whiskey. He and Cas remained at the house.  Cas had been nervous and twitchy all day, as if he sensed something amiss but couldn’t put his finger on it._

Dean felt himself moving.  And he wasn’t controlling it.  He looked around and almost vomited. The world seemed off-kilter, as if someone had moved it _up_ a couple of inches. 

He found himself eye to eye with a demon.

Suddenly a hand, _his hand,_ reached up to the demon’s head.  Dean felt heat and light and power and _Castiel_ all flowing through him at once, and suddenly the brightest light he’d ever seen shot out of the demon’s eyes and mouth . . . but didn’t blind Dean. 

Something impaled his shoulder.

His head whipped around, and there was his hand again, shooting whatever-the-fuck through his body and channeling it into another demon, who howled as light ripped apart his face. His other hand (the non-smiting one, and _what the fuck was happening),_ reached around and pulled the knife from his shoulder.

“Winchester’s gone!  Let’s _move_!” a furious male voice shouted, and at least two dozen demons disappeared through doorways and windows.

He felt the pain in his shoulder, where he’d been stabbed, flare up briefly, then disappear.

_What the fuck is happening?_ Dean thought again.

_Dean, are you alright?_

He clearly heard Cas’s voice, but saw no one else in the room with him.

_Cas?_ He tried to answer, but his lips wouldn’t move.

_Dean, we need to talk._

Vertigo took hold of him again.

_Cas, something’s wrong with me,_ he tried to say, but his mouth wouldn’t form the words.

_What do you remember?_

Dean was becoming a little bit freaked out by this point.  _Cas, where the hell are you?  I can’t see you._ Dean had ceased trying to talk. Cas was an angel, obviously he could hear his thoughts.

Dean had the presence of mind to be briefly horrified by this realization.

_Dean. This may be difficult for you to understand.  You are . . . with me._

_Of course I’m with you, Cas, we’re talking.  But where_ are _you?_

_You are inside of my vessel, with me._

Dean became aware of many sensations at once, the strongest of which was claustrophobia, closely followed by panic, more vertigo, and nausea, and a few things Dean couldn’t even put words to.

_You know, Cas, if you wanted me inside you, there are less drastic ways to –_

Dean lurched forward as his – _Cas’s_ legs began moving impatiently.  They were headed into the bathroom.  Dean tried to adjust to looking at the world from the wrong angle.  Suddenly his eyes were forced upward and focused on the mirror hanging over the bathroom sink.

Dean froze.

He stared into the mirror at Cas’s face.  The blue eyes were dark and intense, concern radiating from them as Cas looked inside his own head, trying to see Dean.

_Where is my body?_ Dean demanded.

Cas did not respond, but Dean felt his hesitation and . . . was that, _fear_?

Cas’s eyes dropped from his reflection in the mirror.

_I’m not entirely sure._

_YOU LOST MY BODY?_

_Calm down, Dean._

_YOU DID_ NOT _JUST TELL ME TO CALM DOWN!  YOU DO NOT_ LOSE _SOMEONE’S_ BODY _AND THEN TELL THEM TO_ CALM DOWN _!_

Cas looked back up, eyes narrowing, dragging Dean’s eyes up with him.  He reached up to touch Dean, remembered he couldn’t, and dropped his hand back to his side.

“What the hell happened here?” Bobby burst through the front door, grabbing his shotgun. He swung around and leveled it at Cas as Cas walked into the living room.  “Where the hell is Dean?”

Cas held up his hand and Bobby lowered the gun.  “Dean is fine.  Sort of.”

“What exactly does that mean?”

_Yeah, Cas, how exactly is this fine?  YOU LOST MY BODY!_

 “We were attacked by demons, dozens of them. They were after Dean.  We couldn’t kill them all ourselves, so I . . . hid Dean.”

“Hid him _where_?” Bobby narrowed his eyes, suspicion creeping across his face.

“Inside my vessel.”

“ _WHAT?_ ” Bobby closed his eyes. “ _Balls_ ,” he added emphatically.

  _Let me talk to him, Cas._

_Dean-_

_Let me friggin’ talk to him.  I can use your voice, can’t I?  I’m in your friggin’ body, for God’s sake!_

“I’m going to, uh, let Dean speak now.”

Bobby stared hard enough to break glass, as Cas’s face shifted and Dean took over his mouth. 

“Bobby?” Dean started at the sound of Cas’s voice coming out of him.

“Dean?  Is this some kind of twisted joke?  Because it’s not funny!”

“I’m okay.  I mean, I’m still me.  But it’s not a joke, and this son of a bitch lost my body.  _And_ I was wearing my favorite shirt!”

Dean felt Cas shifting uncomfortably, which looked totally out of place with the words Dean had just produced from Cas’s face.

Bobby stared at the two of them, sharing a body, and contemplated Dean’s body lying around somewhere without him in it (but clad in his favorite shirt). “I need a drink.”

*****

Sam had returned from his supply run and sat staring across the table at Cas/Dean.

“Why didn’t you just grab him and fly off?” Sam’s incredulity fought for dominance over his amusement.

“Because the demons would have followed us.  They had to believe Dean got away.” Cas looked away briefly, as if wrestling with the secrets of the Universe. “Do you have any pie?”

Bobby scowled at him.  “What do you think this is, a damn bakery?”

Cas disappeared.

And reappeared seconds later with an entire pecan pie, holding his head as if in pain.

“Dean, why are you yelling?” he muttered, not realizing he had spoken out loud.

Sam, recalling Dean’s fear of flying, and less than enthusiastic reactions to prior teleportation with Cas, burst out laughing.

Cas scowled. “Thank you for laughing, Sam, now he’s yelling at both of us.” He turned his attention to Dean.

_I don’t understand why you’re angry.  You wanted pie, so I –_

_So you pull out thirty feet of wings and feathers and - and suck us through a blinding tornado of light and outer fucking space or whatever the hell that was, and - why the hell is it so shiny in here?  How can you see anything over all this fucking light?_

_You saw my wings?_ Cas squirmed a little.

Dean struggled to see out of Cas’s eyes around the light that was burning inside of him.  _That’s what you took from this conversation? Yes! Saw them, felt them, flew with them, so try to remember I’m in here, too and warn me when you’re about to do that shit!  And do something about this fucking_ light _!_

Cas tilted his head a little.  _Your soul is crowding into my Grace.  That’s why you feel surrounded by light. You aren’t actually seeing it, because you don’t have eyes right now.  Use Jimmy’s.  Look at Sam._  

_Jimmy? Jesus fuck! Is he in here, too?_

_No. In order to bring you into me, I had to send him out.  He is safe._

_You mean to tell me,_ Dean’s mind formed the words slowly, _that you kicked that poor bastard out of his own_ body _?_

Cas sighed impatiently. _Another angel is caring for him.  I didn’t have a lot of time to plan for this,_ _and in all of my eons of existence I never did anything like this before._

_So you experimented on me?_ Dean asked, mortified.

_You were dead if I didn’t try something!_

“CAS? GUYS?” Sam’s voice reverberated through the kitchen.  “It’s really creepy watching you have a conversation with your . . . with you not being . . . without being able to hear it!  Okay?  Knock it off!”

Cas put his head in his hands.  “This is exhausting.  I - Dean - _we_ need to rest.”

Dean tried to snort, forgetting he was currently without a nose. _What_ Dean _needs is to eat that pie! Especially after going through the Twilight Zone to get it!_

“Take the guest bedroom,” Bobby said quietly.  “And don’t – don’t do anything funny in there.”

Cas looked from Sam back to Bobby.  “I don’t understand how the two of you can find this funny.”

Dean groaned in Cas’s head.

*****

Cas walked into the upstairs bedroom and closed the door behind him.  He walked over to the bed and laid down on it, closing his eyes.

_Dude. Seriously?_

_What’s wrong, Dean?_

_Let me use my arms, Cas. Uh, your arms. I can’t go to sleep like_ this _._

Cas shifted his Grace aside, allowing Dean access to his arms.  Dean reached down to push their shared body upright on the bed.  Cas figured out what he was doing and helped. Dean took off the black shoes and tossed them unceremoniously onto the floor, then reached up and loosened the tie from around his neck.  Then he slid out of the trenchcoat and suit coat, with Cas’s help, and unbuttoned the top couple buttons of his shirt. 

_That’s better,_ he mumbled in his head to Cas.  _Climb under the covers._

Cas did as instructed, cuddling up under the blankets and resting his head on the pillow.  He let himself relax, and although he didn’t technically need to sleep, laying under the warm weight of the blankets with his head sinking into the soft pillow felt _really_ good.  He began to meditate.

_Cas?_

Cas’s eyes snapped open.

_What is it Dean?_

_What happens if we can’t, uh, recover my body? Am I going to be stuck with you forever?_

Cas was silent for a moment.  _I don’t mean for this to be unpleasant for you.  There were 26 demons in that room.  I couldn’t smite them fast enough to keep them away from you. I believed this arrangement would be the best chance to save you._ He paused _. Dean, have you forgotten I rescued you from Hell? You have to trust me.  I will fix this. I am . . . your guardian angel. Don’t you understand?_

Cas closed his eyes and concentrated his Grace on Dean’s missing form.  Dean felt a vague surge of power, and a gentle twitching in his soul.

_Cas, what the hell is going on?_

_Your molecules dispersed when I grabbed your soul. I must retrieve them all to reconstruct you._

_How long is that going to take?_

_You have a lot of molecules, Dean.  I haven’t found them all back yet._

_Well, you better find back all the important parts!_

_I will find back_ all _of the parts, Dean, it just takes time._

_How long, Cas?_

_A couple of days._

_Well, in that case . . . maybe I’ll just try and get some sleep.  Can you close your eyes?_

Cas complied. 

_*****_

A few minutes later, Dean gave up on the idea of sleeping in someone else’s body.

_Cas?_

Cas’s eyes snapped open, again.

_What is it Dean?_

_Your wings.  When we teleported and I saw your wings, they looked . . . tore up. Like, injured.  Like, there were, you know, feathers missing.  Are you okay? I mean, what happened?_

_I pulled you out of Hell, Dean.  My wings got singed._

_You couldn’t heal yourself? I mean you put my whole body back together, right?  My soul too?_

Cas sighed. _It is – complicated._

_So, uh, is that why you’ve never been with another angel?  Because your wings are all screwed up and not sexy to other angels now?_

_Dean –_ Cas shook his head _–I am thousands of years old.  That happened a few years ago.  And there is a lot more to what other angels see of me than just wings.  So just because_ you _think my wings are – not sexy –_

_Oh, no. I said not sexy_ to other angels _.  I think they’re fucking incredible!  In fact, why don’t you bring them out and let’s wrap up in them?_

_They won’t fit in here, Dean._

_Now you’re just bragging._

_Dean! I thought you wanted to sleep._

_Apparently I don’t need to.  Maybe it’s because you keep touching me with your grace._

_Actually, Dean, it’s you who keeps crowding into me._

_Okay!  Don’t get your feathers ruffled!_ Dean mourned the expressions he couldn’t make without the use of a face.

_Why the sudden concern for my feathers?_ Cas asked suspiciously.

_Cas?_

_Yes, Dean?_

_Are they ticklish?_

_Are_ what _ticklish?_

_Your feathers!_

_You are worse than a little kid, Dean!_

_Hey, give me a break, okay? I’m stuck in your body, with no one to talk to but you, and I can’t move.  Take a little pity on me here!_

Suddenly, Cas sat up, and Dean’s field of vision was obscured by wings filling the room, with random feathers fluttering in the air and drifting slowly to the ground.

_Let me touch them!_

_No!  The more you distract me, the longer it will take for me to put you back together!_

_Come on, Cas, just one touch!_

_No!_

_But –_

_Dean! I said no!_

Dean went quiet.  He had an idea.  Concentrating all his will, he pushed at the light surrounding him inside Cas’ vessel.

_Dean!_ Cas yelped, startled. _What are you doing? I almost lost the connection with your body!_

_Dude, this is awesome!_ Dean had taken control of Cas’ body and was carefully flexing his wings.

_Dean, be careful!_

_Relax!  You can still feel this, can’t you?_

_Yes –_

_Good!_

With that he curled both wings into Cas’ body, reached up and began to gently tickle them. 

“Dean!” Cas yelled.

_Out loud._

Almost instantly, they heard two sets of feet running up the stairs. 

_Son of a bitch!_

Dean slid over, letting Cas regain control.  He immediately retracted his wings and looked toward the door as Bobby and Sam came bursting in.

“Cas!  What’s wrong?  Is Dean okay?”  Sam peered into Cas’ wide, bright, innocent eyes.  He eyed the feathers randomly scattered across the floor.  “Uh, what happened in here?”

“Nothing, Sam.  We were, uh, just getting ready for bed.”

Sam and Bobby looked at each other.  “You sure you’re alright?  And, uh, Dean is –“

Cas cleared his throat.  “We’re – good.”

They left, closing the door behind them, Sam giving a concerned look at the feathers on the floor.

*****

The next morning, Dean slowly came into consciousness, so peacefully that Cas didn’t notice at first.  They were sitting across from Sam, who was eating eggs and a bowl of fresh fruit. 

“Dean is sleeping,” Cas was telling him.

Sam seemed startled by this news.  “How can he sleep when he’s inside you?  Uh, I mean, how can he sleep _with_ you? No, I mean –“

“His soul can rest, Sam.”

Sam cleared his throat. “Why were there feathers in your room last night?” 

Cas responded, “because Dean wanted to –“

_Cas!_ Dean shrieked in his head loud enough to make Cas blink.

Sam looked at Cas, obviously waiting for an answer.

“Dean wanted-“ he started again.

_CAS!_ Dean howled in horror. _You cannot tell Sam about my . . . wing kink!_

_There’s no reason to be ashamed, Dean, it is fairly common for humans to find fascination with-_

“Dean wanted to what, Cas?”

Cas was about to speak when Dean took over his mouth. 

“A crow flew in the window and, uh, it was an older crow,” Dean began desperately, “and he was startled? And, so he lost some feathers in the excitement of, mm, leaving.”

Sam glared at him. “Those weren’t crow feathers.  They were too fluffy.”

Dean, as Cas, replied, “well obviously, the , uh – _crow_ had flown through some pretty serious wing I mean _wind,_ which caused him to fly through some wet clouds, and the humidity puffed up the feathers, which obviously had some natural curl in them to begin with.”

“Dean! Is that you?”

Dean, attempting to make himself sound more like Cas, and forgetting he was already using Cas’ voice, attempted to make his voice sound even deeper and more gravelly.

He in fact ended up sounding like an oboe.

“No!”

With that, Cas regained control of his left arm and reached up to pinch together Dean’s lips.

“ _Mmmm!  Hhmm!  MMMMMM!_ ” Dean tried to shout.

Using the right hand, which he controlled, Dean reached into Cas’s shirt and began poking at his left arm pit, tickling him until he pulled his hand away from his (Dean’s) lips.

In retaliation, Cas grabbed Sam’s orange juice and threw it in his own face (which Dean still controlled.)

Sputtering, Dean reached up with his right hand and wiped the orange juice off his face, then smeared it into Cas’ hair, pulling it hard as he moved his hand through it.

Bobby walked into the kitchen, taking in the entire scene, including Sam’s look of simultaneous horror and pure, unadulterated glee.

“ _What in Crowley’s hell is going on in here?_ ”  he roared.

“Cas started it!” said Cas’ mouth, his face and neck sticky with orange juice and his hair even more disastrous than usual.

Sam, having blessedly forgotten about feathers for the time being, announced his sudden need for fresh air and disappeared outside.

Cas sighed.  “And I need to go clean myself up.” He got up and went upstairs.

Cas made it into the bathroom before staggering and almost falling into the sink.

_Uh, Cas, that wasn’t me.  Are you okay?_

_Fine, Dean_ he muttered, and Dean marveled that anyone could _mutter_ inside their own head.

He turned the water on in the sink, and then fell unceremoniously to the ground.

_Cas! Cas? Answer me!_

Cas opened his eyes and looked around.  Dean noticed the light that burned inside the vessel, _actual Cas,_ was flickering.

_Dude, you’ve got to talk to me.  What’s happening?_

_I’m just – weak.  Putting someone back together is very . . . daunting, and I’ve done it twice now. I have to give you some of my grace to hold you together.  I’m just – I –_

With that, Cas was flat on the floor again, Dean with him. 

_Cas! What can I do?  How can I help you?_

_There is something we could do, but, with you in here with me, I am a little unsure of trying it._

_Trying what?  For God’s sake, Cas, do whatever it is you need to do!_

_It’s what Bobby called a soul-onoscopy. Only, with you so close to my form, you and I literally would become one being, if only for a second or two.  You would see all my thought, memories . . . emotions. But it would give me back enough strength to finish fixing you._

_Cas, if you need strength from me, just take it. It’s okay._

_I-_ he hesitated.  _I am afraid of overwhelming you.  Hurting you._

_Cas, I’m guessing not having a body ever again would likely be worse.  Wait a minute.  Are you, Castiel, angel of the Lord . . ._ shy _??_

Cas wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so he simply said _I’m starting now, Dean._

Slowly he merged his grace into Dean, and Dean’s mind became electrified with images of Heaven, and Hell, and himself in Hell, and Earth before human life started, and deep beneath the ocean (it never occurred to him that Cas might travel _there_ ) and the forms of other angels, and then suddenly he _felt._ He felt the overwhelming love Cas felt for Sam, his desire to protect him, and it was more intense than anything Dean could begin to explain, more than a parent’s love for a child. Then he discovered the longing and desire Cas felt for _him_.  And the confusion, and the fear and resignation that his feelings would not be appreciated, nor reciprocated.    All of this happened almost instantly.  Dean was left speechless.

Cas, fully juiced up, made short work of restructuring the rest of Dean.

_Are you ready?  I will return you to your body now._

_Cas, wait._

_What’s wrong, Dean?_

_I don’t think I’ve thanked you yet.  You know, for saving me._

_You don’t have to thank me, Dean._

_I know, I know, you’re my guardian angel, and all that, but . . . Cas?_

_Yes, Dean?_

_Go into the bedroom.  I’m going to thank you._

_I don’t understand, Dean._

_You will, Cas, go in the bedroom._

Cas complied, walking into the bedroom and sitting down on the bed. 

_Undress,_ Dean ordered.

Cas took his clothes off, placing them neatly on the bed next to him.

_Lay down, then let me use your arms._

Cas got under the covers, snuggling into the pillow as he had the night before.  He let Dean have access to his arms.

And gasped out loud when Dean took his cock in his hands.

Dean wrapped his hand around the shaft, gently squeezing and stroking, while his other hand cradled Cas’ balls. He paused to lick his thumb, then ran it lightly over the tip, teasing the slit, while continuing to knead and stroke him. Cas lay on the bed, moaning, his eyes wide. 

_Dean, what are you doing to me?_

_Just lay back and enjoy it._ Dean was smiling, from inside his soul, even without a mouth to physically show it.

He continued to work Cas, gradually pumping faster and harder as Cas began breathing heavier, and it wasn’t long before he was spewing warm cum in his hand, as Dean continued to stroke his balls, but eased up on the pumping.

_Oh my God, Dean. Why?_

_Did you enjoy it?_

_I have been waiting a long time for that, Dean._

_I know. I saw . . . everything.  When you did your Vulcan mind-meld thing.  Why didn’t you ever tell me?  Never mind, I know.  Look, Cas . . . put me back in my body.  I have a few more things to show you._

 

__  
  


 


End file.
